


Ain't that neat

by sscottssummerss



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Set in 1899, Steve is a disaster, newsies au, they all say ain't a lot, they're all a big family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sscottssummerss/pseuds/sscottssummerss
Summary: Steve hadn't intended on starting a newsboys strike just because Bucky had looked at him with those hopeless eyes.But then Bucky had looked at him with those hopeless eyes and yeah, maybe they're on strike now.(Or, a Newsies AU)





	1. Don't you know that we're a family

As the sun’s light slowly began to peak through the buildings of Brooklyn, Steve can hear Bucky begin to stir. 

 

“Stevie?” He murmurs, sleep slowing his words. “What’re you doing up? Go back to sleep.”

 

Steve chuckles and shakes Bucky’s ankle.

 

“Shut up Buck, I’m busy.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky sits up and leans against Steve, peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

 

“What’s it look like numbskull.”

 

“That ain't nice Stevie, especially after all I do for ya.”

 

“Like what? Pull me into trouble?”

 

“I think you’ll find,” Bucky grins sleepily and nudges Steve’s shoulder. “That you’re the one who pulls me into trouble, punk.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you quit leanin’ on me like that? You’re gonna crease my paper.”

 

“What, quit leanin’ like this?” Bucky pulls his good arm from under him, dumping all his weight onto Steve’s side and causing him to dog ear his paper. 

 

“Dammit Bucky,” he scolds, but laughs anyway. “Eh, screw it, I can do better.”

 

“It looks good Stevie.”

 

“It’d look better with colours.”

 

“Who says you need colour?”

 

“It’s unrealistic without colour, you ever see a black and white sunrise?”

 

“Depends on the day.”

 

Snorting, Steve shakes his head and nudges Bucky. 

 

“C’mon, get off me before you fall asleep.”

 

“But you’re so comfortable, your shoulders so big it’s like a giant pillow.”

 

“You are unbelievable.” Then Steve nudges Bucky harder, causing him to topple over to his other side. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky whines like a damn child. “You can’t go pushing amputees around like this, it ain’t fair!”

 

“I’m bigger than you, I can do what I want.”

 

“Weren’t always the case.” Bucky mumbles to himself, before resting his head back on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes flutter closed and he wraps his arm around his torso. 

 

It seems like he’s fallen asleep so Steve returns to his drawing, thinking he can’t be heard when he starts to mumble. 

 

“It’s so damn grey here, I want someplace with colour.”

 

“Where you thinking of Stevie?" Bucky mumbles drowsily.

 

“Didn’t know you was listening.” Steve lets out a soft chuckle. “I dunno, just someplace that ain’t here. Someplace nice.”

 

Opening his eyes, Bucky laughs softly. “You pick and I’ll follow.”

 

“What if it’s someplace you don’t want to go?”

 

“You think that’s gonna stop me? Nah, somebody needs to keep you out of trouble, even if this damn stump don’t make me so good at it anymore.”

 

Steve frowns and opens his mouth to object, you ain’t any different now with one arm than with two Bucky, he wants to say, but the morning bell cuts him off. 

 

With a sigh Bucky pushes himself up, pulling his bad arm into his sling. 

 

“Lets go Stevie,” he yawns. “These papers won’t sell themselves.”

 

“Maybe if we got a half decent headline they would.” Steve gripes as he pulls on his own shirt and they begin making their way downstairs. 

 

“That’s the beauty of it though, if you can sell that shit, you can sell anything.”

 

“Yeah, and you’re supposed to do it without lying.”

 

“Who said I lie? I make improvements.”

 

“The only thing you should be improving is that haircut of yours!” Sam joins them on the way down the stairs. 

 

Bucky blows a few strands of hair out his eyes and laughs. 

 

“Hey, I’d say I did not too bad considering I’m missing a damn arm.”

 

“Seems like you’re missing a pair of eyes too.”

 

“You know what Wilson? One of these days you’re gonna get my fist in your mouth.”

 

“I doubt that Barnes, you’d never hit me.”

 

“Try me.” 

 

Steve chuckles to himself as Bucky and Sam bicker ahead, choosing to hang back and say good morning to everyone instead of getting involved. Those two have each other’s backs through thick and thin but they couldn’t stop bickering to save their damn lives. Steve just hops that one day it really doesn’t end in a fight, although the betting odds Clint spurts each day on their fights seem to get better each day. 

 

“Morning Steve,” Natasha yawns on her way to the bathing room. 

 

“Rough night?” Steve teases, glancing at her unbrushed hair falling in her face.

 

“Clint kept snoring, I might have to dump him if this continues,” She complains, but she’s got that lovestruck look on her face indicating that she’ll do no such thing. Steve laughs and lets her go, knowing she’ll step out in five minutes looking fabulous as always. 

 

He continues through the lodging house, mediating when he bumps into Thor and Loki in yet another argument, helping little Peter ties his shoelaces, and laughing with Bruce when he gets roped into Thor and loki’s argument. As much as Steve hates the city and the permanent dull greys and gloomy browns surrounding them, he does love living with all his best friends. Sure, the place is a little cold in the winter, and yeah, maybe he goes hungry from time to time when he has to spread out his food to ensure that everybody eats, but he cares about these guys. They’re his friends, his family. 

 

He catches up with Sam and Bucky on their way to the distribution centre, the two of them locked in a playful bicker about whether or not Governor Fury could beat up Sam. Steve just watches with a smirk, knowing fine well that Bucky is right and Governor Fury definitely could beat Sam up, but he likes to see it play out, if only just to hear why Sam thinks he could beat up the Governor. 

 

The bickering dies down when they reach the gates of The Hydra, both Bucky and Sam instead choosing to tease Rumlow as he lets them in.

 

“How’s it going Rumlow? You get soaked by any little girls recently?” Sam says, Bucky cackling away next to him. 

 

“It happened one time,” Rumlow mumbles and pulls the gates open. “If you don’t wipe that smile off your face Barnes you’re gonna lose that other arm.”

 

“I’m shaking in my boots Rumlow, I better go to the orphanage down the street and grab a little girl for some protection.”

 

“You little freak!” Rumlow snarls and shoves Bucky into the gates. Bucky stumbles but catches himself, shoving Rumlow back just as hard.

 

“You watch yourself, I ain’t the freak here and you know it.”

 

Rumlow growls and throws a punch but Bucky sidesteps him and his fist goes into the gates, causing them to rattle. 

 

The rest of the newsies start laughing and Rumlow turns a deep shade of red.

 

“Just wait til I get my hands on you!” He lunges forward again but Steve steps in his way before he can get anywhere.

 

“Back off,” He warns. “Otherwise one day you’re going to find yourself missing both arms.”  

 

There’s a stare off between the two of them, Rumlow itching for a fight but knows from past experience that he won’t win. Reluctantly, he backs down. 

 

“Get your asses in line,” He grits. Steve shoves past him, Bucky following after with his own harsh push. 

 

“You don’t have to step in like that Stevie,” Bucky sighs when they’re out of earshot. “You know I can take care of myself.”

 

“Yeah, well you don’t have to.”

 

The fight goes forgotten as quickly as it started, the new headline being posted distracting everybody.

 

“‘Construction Strike continues into third week’,” Clint reads aloud. “How’re we supposed to sell that snoozer?”

 

“With your charming personality Barton.”

 

“Screw you Wilson, you wish you had this personality.”

 

Anything Sam was going to say to defend himself is cut short when Sitwell enters the square, telling everybody to come get their papers.

 

“The usual,  _ Shitwell _ ,” Bucky grins at his at place the front of the line, sliding his quarters over. 

 

“It’s  _ Sitwell _ and you damn well know it Barnes!”

 

“Sure, sure, whatever  _ Shitwell _ .”

 

Steve has to bite his lip to stop from bursting out laughing as he hands his coins over too. 

 

“Wipe that look off your face Rogers, before I ban the both of you!”

 

Steve can’t help but laugh this time as he shuffles over to join Bucky on a wagon where he’s sorting through his papers.

 

They’re quickly joined by Sam and Thor, though a commotion seems to bring the line to a grinding halt.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Sitwell demands, causing everybody’s heads to whip around.

 

Standing at the front of the line is a boy. He can’t be much older than Steve himself, the prickling stubble on his chin confirming that, but he’s got an air of confidence to him, as if he knows just how to manipulate the situation to his liking. He’s skinny, but not underfed skinny like most of them here, no, he was just a lanky kid who looked a little too clean to be in the same boat as the rest of them.

 

“Hey look at that, we got a new kid!” Sam croons from where he stands with his arm slung around Bucky’s shoulder. 

 

The new kid in question glances up and smirks. He opens his mouth to probably introduce himself but Bucky beats him to it. 

 

“I know you, you’re Howard Stark’s kid!”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow and takes a closer look at the kid. While he’s personally never been too interested in Howard Stark and his crazy inventions and talks of the future, Bucky is all over it. He’d dragged Steve to the stark expo last summer and while it cost them almost a week’s pay, it was worth it for Steve to see his best friend’s face light up in wonder. But Bucky had stopped talking about Stark recently, and he wasn’t in the papers no more, leading to believe that something had changed. And if his son was here now, along with the kids who had no money to their names and no place to go, well, it wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together. 

 

“Oh, it’s the futurist!” Clint cackles, stepping out of line to get a good look at the kid. “Whatcha doin’ here? Daddy finally realise dreaming ain’t paying the bills no more?”

 

A ripple of laughter rings out through the line. But if the kid’s affected by it, he doesn’t let it show. 

 

Instead he keeps smirking and raises an eyebrow at Clint. 

 

“Tough times,” he shrugs. “We’ve all got to pull our weight here, even if it does mean laying with the dogs.” That pulls the smile right off Clint’s face as he reads the kid’s lips. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

The kid rolls his eyes and sighs.

 

“I mean, I know you guys can’t go to school, but c’mon I expected better.”

 

Clint’s eyes narrow and he takes a step forward, and from the corner of his eye Steve can see Sam and Bucky stand a little straighter too. 

 

So Steve steps in before anyone ends up with bruises. 

 

“Hey, we’re all in the same boat here, okay? Lets just calm down.” He soothes and turns to Stark. “Steve Rogers, I’m kind of in charge around here.” He sticks his hand out for Stark to shake. Stark stares at it for a moment, then looks back up at Steve with his eyebrow raised once again. 

 

“You gonna stare at the hand of you gonna shake it?” Bucky spits. 

 

Stark lets out a sigh and shakes Steve’s hand. 

 

“Tony Stark, nice guard dog.”

 

Steve laughs. 

 

“Nice to meet you Tony, welcome to the newsies.” He goes to hand Tony a paper, as an act of goodwill. Tony reaches for it but before he can grab it Steve pulls it just a little back. “Oh, and if you ever call my friends dogs again, I might just have to knock that little smirk off your face, got it?”

 

This time the smirk does come off and Tony looks put out. Nevertheless, he accepts the paper and holds himself tall. 

 

“Noted.” He says, almost drowned out by the laughing around him. Things return to normal once again and the line picks up the pace. 

 

“Stevie I know I ain’t supposed to encourage your fightin’ but I just love watching you do that.”

 

Tony frowns at Bucky as he stands laughing with Sam and Steve smiles a little. He doesn’t want to seem mean, but yeah, don’t insult his friends. 

 

“So how’s this all work?” Tony asks, shaking off the laughter and falling back into his confidence. “You guys pair up or does everyone have their own territory?”

 

“What would you want to pair up for?” Sam snorts before Steve can reply. “That’s basically giving half your pay to someone else. Just because these two dumbasses are thick skulled enough to do it don’t mean we all should.” Sam jerks his thumb over to Bucky and Steve. 

 

“It’s called having friends Wilson, try it sometime.”

 

“Screw you Barnes, I don’t need this, I’ve got papers to sell.”

 

“You’d be selling them a lot quicker if you hung around with me.”

 

“I don’t need to rely on you and your lies, and I’m not as nice as Steve to pretend to like having you around.”

 

“You wound me Sam, that really cut deep.”

 

“I hate you so much.” Sam barks a laugh and lightly shoves Bucky as he turns to go, indicating that he didn’t mean a word of what he said. Not that Bucky or Steve would think he did, Sam Wilson talked as much shit as the paper did. 

 

“Not everyone pairs up,” Steve explains after Sam has left them, following after nearly everyone else. “Me and Buck do because we make a good team, but you don’t have to. How about you come with us today and see how it’s done?”

 

“I dunno,” Tony looks between the two of them. “How do I know you two aren’t going to beat me up and take my papers?”

 

“That’s just a risk you’ll have to take,” Bucky shrugs. 

 

“Uh, yeah, no thanks.” 

 

“That’s the chance of a lifetime!” Pipes up Peter, trailing after them with his newsbag dragging along the ground. “Steve and Bucky are the best at selling, they sell a hundred papers a day each!”

 

“A hundred each?”

 

“Yup, and you’ve just lost your chance of a lifetime to learn all our secrets. We’ll just take our services elsewhere, maybe inspire the youth where our talents ain’t going to waste, how’s that sound Pete?”

 

“That’s great!”

 

Steve rolls his eyes and shakes his head, convinced that the kid doesn’t even know what he just agreed to. 

 

“Okay, sure you can guys can show me the ropes.” Tony states, resulting in Bucky laughing in his face. 

 

“Oh  _ can  _ we now? Why, thank  _ you  _ your majesty, what an  _ honour. _ ”

 

“Bucky—”

 

“Too bad I’m going to have to pass though,  _ your majesty, _ but I’d rather take the kid, at least I know I’ll be appreciated.”

 

“ _ Bucky— _ ”

 

“That doing good to you Petey?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Bucky!”

 

“C’mon Stevie we’re killing daylight here and we can’t let our talents go to waste, got to get our protege up to speed.”

 

“Bucky.”

 

“You ready kid, got all your papers?”

 

“Bucky. Stop.”

 

“But  _ Stevie _ ,” Bucky whines like the child he is. 

 

“Stop it Buck, we ain’t just leaving Tony to fend for himself.”

 

“But what about me?” Peter pouts and crosses his arms, acting exactly like Bucky. Except, Peter actually is a child, Bucky is nearly a man. 

 

Steve sighs. 

 

“Fine, take Peter, I’ll sell with Tony today.”

 

“Wow way to make me feel welcomed here Rogers.”

 

“Fuck off Stark, you didn’t want us anyway.”

 

With that Bucky let’s out a cackle and wraps his arm around Peter’s shoulder. 

 

“Let’s go kid, hey, maybe we could even get Loki to teach you to pickpocket.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Don’t do that!” Steve yells after them as they begin to head down the street. Bucky just shoots him a grin over his shoulder and waves before they turn the corner. 

 

Once again, Steve sighs. 

 

“So, are we doing this or not?” Tony asks impatiently and Steve turns to him with a smile. 

 

“Of course, I’ll show you how it’s done.”


	2. It's a crooked game we're playing

It turns out Tony isn’t half bad at selling papers. At first people are a little wary of him and he sounds a little clunky and awkward, but after Steve teaches him how to stand and how to yell, he’s getting there. He’s no natural, but he can get by.

 

“So tell me some of your tricks.” He demands.

 

“What tricks? All you do is yell the damn headline.”

 

“It’s not a headline worth reading though! C’mon Rogers, you can’t be telling me everybody gets a sale just spouting this garbage.”

 

“I mean, some guys make one up, or lie for sympathy,” Steve shrugs. “We’re all so damn dishonest. Why lie though when you can sell like this?”  Steve flashes a toothy smile at a young woman passing by. 

 

“Can I interest you in the latest news, ma’am?” He asks, fluttering his eyelashes. The woman blushes and hands him a dime, giggling as she takes her paper. 

 

“We can all just coast through life on good looks Rogers,” Tony drawls. “Looks fade, my charming personality is forever.”

 

“Your personality is as charming as a doorknob, get a new one.”

 

“Or I could y’know, improvise.” Tony does jazz hands to emphasise his point. 

 

“Extra! Extra!” He yells, waving a paper. “Frozen man found in ice cap, experts say he’s still alive!”  

 

Not even a moment later a man hastily hands over a dime and grabs the paper greedily. 

 

“ Now, that’s dishonest,” chides Steve as the man takes off. “My Ma always taught me never to lie.”

 

“Mine taught me to think I’m better than everyone else then have a breakdown when I realise I’m not.”

 

“That’s a bit touchy.”

 

“Yeah the whole damn situation is a bit touchy. Stuff like that happens when you go bankrupt.” The conversation ends there and Tony goes back to trying to sell.  

 

It only takes the morning for Steve to get rid of all his papers, but Tony is still dragging at least half of his around by the time lunch hits. 

 

“C’mon, we’re getting something to eat.” Steve tells Tony and drags him to a bakery. “I missed breakfast this morning and I’m starvin’.”

 

“You eat breakfast?” Tony asks, as if he’s shocked that this is a thing newsies do.

“I try to, hauling around papers all day isn’t exactly something you should be doin’ on an empty stomach.”

 

“But you’re an orphan?”

 

“That’s a strong assumption.”

 

“Well you are, right?”

 

“Yeah but I dunno what that’s got to do with me eatin’ breakfast.”

 

“But you can’t afford it?”

 

Steve cocks his head slightly before barking out a laugh.

 

“Jesus kid, you might be the son of a genius or something, but you sure are stupid.”

 

Steve hands the baker a couple of coins and takes a loaf of bread, leading Tony out the bakery to the kerb outside. 

 

“I make enough to get by,” He splits the bread in half and hands Tony some. “In the summer at least, ask me again in Winter and we’ll see what changes.”

 

“I was kind of hoping not to be here during Winter.” Tony mumbles and scarves down a piece of bread. 

 

Tony stops talking for a moment, lulling Steve into a false sense of peace, before speaking up again.

 

“So what’s the deal with you and Barnes?”

 

“The what?” Steve asks around the crust of bread in his mouth. Tony grimaces and turns away, however still continues to speak. 

 

“The deal. Like, what’s going on between you two?”

 

“We’re best friends.” Steve states as if it’s obvious. Which it clearly is. 

 

“Just best friends?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“C’mon Rogers, you know what I mean. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.”

 

“He does not.” Steve mumbles, although his cheeks gain a hint of red. “He’s just Bucky, we’ve been best friends since we were six.”

 

“You guys been working out here since you were six?”

 

“No, not since then.” Steve is secretly glad for the change of topic. “We used to live next door to each other, back when we both had folks.”

 

“Can I ask what happened?”

 

“No.”

 

“Okay, thanks for that King of Awkward.”

 

They sit in silence for a beat, the awkwardness quickly becoming suffocating. 

 

“Bucky started first.” Steve says just to say something. “When he was eight maybe? I don’t remember, I was real sick as a kid and Bucky took this up to help out. Then I got better and my body started catching up so I joined in when Ma passed.”

 

“Is that how he’s so good? He got the experience?”

 

“Something like that,” Steve huffs a laugh. “He lies a lot when selling, always has. If he hates the headline he’ll make up a headline.”

 

“Ah, there’s that dishonesty you were talking about.”

 

“Yeah, you could say that. I mean, I get it, I just don’t like it. How’re we expected to even sell this?” He hits one of his papers off his knee. “Nobody cares about this crap.”

 

“Thought you said your Ma taught you not to lie?”

 

“She did and I guess that’s why I can’t bring myself to do it. Bucky can though, kids got no morals. I bet he’s dressed Peter up in a sling to match his today for sympathy.”

 

“What’s wrong with using what he’s got? Sounds pretty smart to me.”

 

“Sure, sure. I dunno, it just don’t feel right to me, it’s tricking people.”

 

“Isn’t that the whole idea?”

 

“You’d know.” Steve bites out, then realises the harshness of his words. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Tony waves him off. “Dad spent more time being flashy than actually putting any thought behind his inventions. That’s how we’re here.”

 

“That ever feel right to you?”

 

“I didn’t care, I got three square meals a day and an indoor toilet. The guy could be stealing candies off babies for all I cared.”

 

Steve finds himself laughing with Tony for the first time since meeting him, as opposed to just laughing at his expense. He has to admit, this feels a bit better. 

 

“What was it your dad actually did? Bucky was all over it, thought he was some kind of genius.”

 

“Some kind of genius.” Tony parrots and laughs bitterly. “He could do amazing things, make the telephone all wacky, get the typewriter to write itself, he even took apart a printing press just to try to put it back together, I don’t think he ever did it though, damn thing is probably still locked up in that old factory. He was smart, but dumb at the same time. He has no idea what to do now that the money is dried up.”

 

Steve nods thoughtfully, almost regretting asking now that Tony’s face has dropped and he’s avoiding all eye contact. 

 

“C’mon,” Steve says instead of continuing the conversation, “you’ve still got papers to sell.”

 

Soon, Tony is down to his last paper and Steve can begin to think about going home. As much as he’d finally begun to not really mind Tony, he really did miss selling with Bucky. It was weird going all day without having to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the ridiculous headlines Bucky would spurt or not being able to swing his arm around his best friend each time he made a sale. 

 

“And that, is how it’s done.” Tony brags, pulling Steve out of his thoughts as he sells his last paper. 

 

“Finally, everyone else went home hours ago!” Teases Steve. 

 

Tony just nudges him with his shoulder and starts swinging his bag around. 

 

“So what now? You guys all twiddle your thumbs until the sun comes up and you get to start again?”

 

“You think our whole lives revolve around the newspaper? No way, once the papers are gone we get to start living.”

 

“And how do you “live”?” Tony uses air quotations like a real jackass. 

 

“I dunno, we do what we want, we’ve not got anyone waiting for us to come home and get to bed on time.”

 

“Me neither. I got folks but they’re not going to care if I go home or not. They don’t care about nothing no more.”

 

“That can’t be—” Steve starts to chide Tony, But is cut off by a loud shriek from the alley. 

 

Both boys share a glance, Tony nodding his head in the opposite direction to indicate that they should take off, but Steve just grits his jaw. In a split second decision he takes off in the direction of the shriek at full speed. Tony is left dumbfounded until Steve calls over his shoulder,

 

“You coming or not Stark?”

 

Steve thinks Tony’s sigh could be heard from Manhattan but he’s quick to follow after Steve. 

 

They skid to a stop at the opening of the alley where with the sun’s final rays they can see a woman cornered by two men. They’re grabbing at her and making lewd comments and Steve’s heart drops when he sees a tear in the woman’s dress. 

 

“Hey! Pick on someone your own size!” He yells angrily as he storms up to the men, Tony reluctantly on his heels.

 

“Steve, you can’t fight them.” Tony hisses into his ear but he goes unnoticed. 

 

The men look over to Steve and step away from the woman, both with snarls on their faces. 

 

“Yeah? Who you got in mind, kid?”

 

“Not a defenceless dame that’s for sure.” Steve snaps. The man closest to him growls and throws a punch at his face, sending Steve staggering backwards into a trash can. 

 

“That’s what I thought,” the man laughs evilly and turns back to the shaking woman. 

 

But Steve doesn’t back down and picks up the lid of the trash can to slam into the man’s head. He topples down like a stack of bricks and the other man steps back in surprise. The woman shrieks again but before Steve can speak to her, the second man aims a punch at his head. 

 

However, Steve sees it coming this time and manages to dodge, aiming a sweeping kick to the man’s legs as he does so. Suddenly the first man scrambles back up and aims another punch. 

 

The woman continues to shriek despite Tony’s poor attempts to calm her as the fight rages on until all of a sudden there’s thundering footsteps approaching them accompanied by  the sound of whistles. 

 

“Stop!” The approaching police officer yells. One of the men shove Steve into the trash cans before sprinting off. The woman makes a run for it too as Tony attempts to pull Steve out from the garbage. 

 

“Mister Rogers!” Comes a voice and Steve’s heart stops. Behind the police officer comes a tall man with greasy slicked back hair and a long face with a menacing grin stretched across it. 

 

Steve bolts up and grabs Tony by the collar. 

 

“Run for it!” He screeches, dragging Tony as fast as he can out the alley. The officer and man take chase as Steve pulls Tony down winding streets and up fire escapes as the men yell behind them. 

 

“Where are we going?” Tong wheezes, struggling to keep up. 

 

“Keep going!” Steve urges. Eventually they wind up in an alley and dart through a brown door at the back of one of the buildings they run between. 

 

Steve slams the door shut and bolts it, then doubles over to catch his breath. 

 

“What,” Tony inhales deeply, “just happened?” 

 

“That was Schmidt, a monster.” Steve hisses, leaning against the wall for support. “He runs a jail for kids - the refuge - and he pulls in any kid he sees on the street. He’s psychotic.”

 

“How does he know you?”

 

“Me and Bucky are his favourite prisoners.” Steve grimaces. “He’s the reason Bucky’s missing an arm. Do yourself a favour and stay away from him.”

 

Tony’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to reply, but a shout interrupts him. 

 

“Hey! No minors in the gym!”

 

The shout comes from a woman with brown hair and a stern frown as she stands with her hands on her hips. 

 

Tony stutters for a moment before Steve cuts in, stepping closer into the light so the woman can see him. 

 

“Not even me Miss Maria?”

 

The frown drops off the woman’s face, quickly replaced with a soft smile. 

 

“Steve Rogers, I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

 

Steve grins and gives Miss Maria a hug before turning back to Tony. 

 

“Miss Maria, this is Tony, he just started today. Tony, Miss Maria Hill, she owns this gym.”

 

“And boxing ring.” She adds. 

 

“And boxing ring.”

 

Tony stands bewildered for a moment, then nods stiffly and gives a small bow. 

 

“My pleasure Miss Maria.”

 

Miss Maria gives Tony a warm smile and turns back to Steve. 

 

“Are you going to be boxing tonight? Or better yet, is Bucky boxing tonight?”

 

“Ah give it a rest Miss, you know we don’t do that anymore.”

 

“You know fine well Bucky still can.”

 

“Sure he can, and he can win. I just worry about him, y’know?”

 

“Well stop, that boy can look after himself.”

 

“Yeah but he prefers me to do it for him.”

 

Miss Maria playfully hits Steve on the shoulder and laughs. 

 

“What brings you here this early, you know the good fights aren’t until later.”

 

“Uh, we had a bit of trouble outside.” Steve scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “You mind if we hang out here?”

 

“Course kid, you’re always welcome at Goldies. Was it Schmidt causing trouble again?” She asks softly, glancing over at Tony briefly. 

 

“When doesn’t he cause trouble? It don’t matter though, we’re just head for a fight.” Steve grins. 

 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, it’s amateur hour though, I’m not sure how much fun you’ll have. Hey, maybe your new friend could have a go?”

 

“Ah look at him Miss Maria, he wouldn’t last half a second, even with the amateurs.”

 

“You know I am standing right here?” Tony scoffs. 

 

Steve just shoots him a wink and beckons him to follow as him and Miss Hill turn towards the ring behind them. 

 

The fight is just about to start so Steve and Tony take a seat on the bleachers while Miss Maria enters the ring to referee. There’s not too many people watching, not like there will be later when the real boxers come in. There’s one spectator catches that Steve’s eye though. 

 

It’s a woman, well, not quite a woman, she must be around the same age as Steve, with long brown hair and bright red lipstick sitting on the front bleacher. For a moment Steve is taken aback by how beautiful she is. 

 

She has a notebook in her hands that she scribbles into furiously in between watching the fight, and Steve’s interest is peaked. 

 

Steve gets up and makes his way over to her, telling Tony he’ll be right back. 

 

“Hey,” he greets when he reaches the girl. “Can I sit here?”

 

She looks up at him through her eyelashes and nods stiffly. 

 

“It’s not my seat, do what you like.” A thick british accent accompanies her words and Steve grows even more intrigued. 

 

“Whatcha writing?”

 

She looks at him briefly before going back to her notes. 

 

“I’m working,” she says. “I’m writing an article about Miss Hill.”

 

“An article? For a newspaper?”

 

“Yes, you do know what that is, don’t you?”

 

Steve snorts. “I sure hope so, I have been selling them half my life.”

 

“Good, make sure you sell my article then.”

 

“Oh of course, anything about Miss Maria would sell itself, she’s such an amazing lady we won’t even need to be making up headlines. But, uh, you don’t get too many girl reporters?”

 

She glares up at Steve and he suddenly realises how rude he came across. 

 

“Sorry I didn't mean nothing by it, I just meant that it’s different, y’know?”

 

The girl doesn’t look too convinced and sighs and goes back to her notes again. 

 

“Well, it’s happening. And as you can see, I am currently working so I’m not really fit for conversation at the moment.”

 

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’m happy to just sit and enjoy the fight.”

 

He’s not really, the fight is boring because the boxers won’t throw any actual punches, they just keep skirting around each other. Everyone else who had been watching has either wandered off or found themselves distracted. Glancing up at Tony, Steve can see him trying to talk to an old man next to him who is very clearly asleep. 

 

Steve turns back around and pulls out a pencil and the spare paper he keeps in his back pocket. He starts doodling but soon the lines start to take shape and a face begins to form. He hadn’t meant to start drawing the girl beside him, it just sort of happened. 

 

“What are you doing?” The girl asks when she catches him scribbling. 

 

“Working,” he mumbles, pulling the paper closer to him so he can finish. It’s a quick sketch and once again Steve wishes he had colours to do her pouting red lips and shimmering brown eyes justice. The bell rings to signal the end of the fight and he looks up, seeing that nobody has actually won, Miss Maria has just called it because it was so damn boring. He catches her roll her eyes as she chases the boxers out and laughs to himself. 

 

“Well, how’re you doin’ Miss Maria?” Comes a voice when Miss Maria leaves the ring, and a huge smile spreads across Steve’s face. 

 

Through the front doors just to the left of the ring walks Bucky, with Peter trailing after him. 

 

“Bucky!” Miss Maria greets happily. “What is it with you kids coming so early today?”

 

“That mean Steve’s here?”

 

She nods and gestures up at him in the bleachers. He throws them a wave and sees the girl next to him look between them all out of the corner of his eye. Bucky looks at the girl and shoots Steve a wink, making him chuckle. 

 

“I thought you sold papers?” The girl asks. 

 

“I do.”

 

“Then how come you’re so acquainted here?”

 

“Everybody’s got a hobby.” Steve sets his paper down and stands up. “I’ll be right back.” The girl nods stiffly and starts writing again. 

 

“Stevie!” Bucky grins as Steve approaches, but his smile quickly drops when he spots Steve’s blossoming bruise. “What happened? You didn’t have a shot in the ring without me did ya?”

 

“Nah, it’s nothing Buck, don’t worry about it.”

 

“Your pal jumped into a fight that wasn’t his,” Tony rats Steve out. “Then got us chased through the streets like criminals!”

 

“You’re a real pal Stark,” Steve bumps Tony’s shoulder roughly. 

 

“You was fighting?” Peter asks incredulously. “Did ya win?”

 

“Would I be standing here if I didn’t?”

 

“That’s so cool! You’re so strong Steve!”

 

“He ain’t strong, he’s stupid.” Bucky ruffles Peter’s hair. It’s at this point that Steve notices Peter has his left arm in a sling, not unlike Bucky’s. 

 

“Kind of unfair that you’re giving me grief for protecting a dame when you’re the one making a kid lie through his teeth.”

 

“Hey, this idea was genius, we sold all our papers by lunch. Folks are suckers for two brothers with only one pair of arms between them. I’m telling ya Stevie if you ever get bored of me just let me know and me and Pete can work something out.”

 

“Aren’t your customers going to be pissed when they see you show up with both arms tomorrow?” Tony asks Peter. 

 

“I’ll just keep the sling.” Peter shrugs happily. 

 

“That’s dishonest.” Steve scolds. 

 

“That’s just business.”

 

Bucky barks a laugh, even Tony smiles sort of and Steve rolls his eyes. 

 

“Well, as  _ enchanting  _ as this day has been, I better head home, not that anyone’s probably noticed I left.”

 

“You could always come to the lodging house.” Bucky says, looking at his nails as if he doesn’t care. Steve can see him glance up briefly though, because he knows Bucky secretly does want Tony to be happy tonight. 

 

But Tony shakes his head. 

 

“Thanks, but no thanks. We might have lost everything but I still have my own bed and I’d like to take advantage of that while I can.”

 

“Sharing ain’t too bad, is it Stevie?” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Bucky nudges Steve’s shoulder. “But I get ya. Do us a favour will ya and drop Peter off on your way, me and Steve got business to do.”

 

“Business.” Tony mocks. “Sure, Fine, c’mon kid, I don’t want to be wandering around at night.”

 

“What's wrong with the night?”

 

“Too many things.” Tony and Peter bid Steve and Bucky goodbye, leaving them both in the gym. 

 

“So Stevie,” Bucky rounds on Steve, grinning wildly. It makes Steve’s heart race just a little, like it always does. “Did ya miss me?”

 

“Always.” Steve snorts. 

 

“Didn’t look like it too much when you was speaking with that dame up there, where’s she gone anyway?”

 

Steve spins around to look at the bleachers and his heart drops a little when he sees that the girl is gone. Bucky seems to have followed his gaze and claps him on the shoulder.

 

“Ah don’t worry bout it, she probably just saw me and assumed you kept the wrong kind of company.”

 

“That ain’t true Bucky.”

 

“Keep tellin’ yourself that Stevie. Anyway, enough of the girls, let’s talk about some fighting tonight.”

 

“Bucky you ain’t fighting tonight.

 

“But  _ why _ ?” Bucky whines like a child, something he seems to do at least three times a day. Steve just laughs and pulls Bucky over to the punching bags with him, ready to blow off some steam and have some fun with his best friend. 

 

And if they do end up in the ring later on, nobody has to know. It’s not like they’ve got the bruises to prove it.


	3. Nothing happens if you just give in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike? Strike.

It’s cold, so cold Steve can feel it in his bones. His aching bones that feel like they could snap if he moves too quickly. His entire body feels like it could fall apart at any given moment, his muscles are twisted and screaming, his skin patterned with black and blue and gushing red. Bucky looks so much worse though, slumped across from Steve on their too tiny bunk, their limbs tangled together in the limited space.

It’s been so long since they’ve eaten, Steve can count Bucky’s ribs beneath the tattered remains of his shirt. It’s not food Steve is concerned about though, he’s more worried about the bloody mess that has succumbed Bucky’s left arm. He wants to try wrap it, but all the threadbare ratty blankets have been taken by the other kids to keep warm. Steve can’t blame them, the refuge is the kind of place where it’s every man for himself. Well, except for him and Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky moans, “Don’t look at me all worried like that, I’m fine, I’m fine.” But Bucky doesn’t look fine, not at all if his too pale face and sheen of sweat on his forehead are anything to go by. He keeps smiling though, despite the fact that his eyes keep drooping and he can’t seem to stay awake very long.

The smile drops when there’s a noise. The heavy steel door scrapes along the ground and footsteps begin clicking their way into the room. They come closer and closer and Steve tries to move, tries to hide Bucky behind him but he just can’t move, his limbs won’t work. The footsteps stop at their bunk and Steve’s empty stomach falls to the floor when he sees Schmidt standing before them, reaching a bony hand out to Bucky.

“No!” He croaks, his voice hoarse from their too long of a stay in this hellhole. “No leave im’ alone, leave him alone!”

But Schmidt just laughs and laughs until the sound slowly becomes Bucky’s screams, soon joined by Steve’s own.

_“No, no, no!”_

“Steve!”

Steve wakes with a start, the morning sun beating down on him and Bucky’s worried face staring into his own. He sits up quickly, taking Bucky’s face into his hands. The bruises are faded, though scars remain, but he’s awake and his cheeks aren’t sunken and he has some colour from the sun and his left arm is gone but not _bleeding_.

“You’re okay,” Steve breathes.

“Yeah, I’m good, so are you. It was just a nightmare.”

“Just a nightmare.” Steve repeats.

“Thats right, now c’mon, everybody’s already left, we’re gonna be late.”

Reluctantly Steve pulls himself up, his nightmare still rattling in the back of his head. He keeps glancing over to Bucky as they make their way to the distribution centre, just to be sure that he’s still okay. Steve isn’t subtle though and Bucky catches him every time.

“It was about the refuge, right?” He asks.

“Was I talkin’ in my sleep again?”

“Nah, I just figured cause you saw Schmidt yesterday. It happens to me, remember last month he chased me all the way to the docks and I couldn’t sleep for a week? Fuckin’ jackass. Which time was it? The first when we was just little or that time when he brought out that whip, oh but what about the tome after—”

“It was the last time Bucky.” Steve cuts in, not too interested in discussing all their other stints.

“Oh.” Bucky goes quiet. That last time was the worst time, bad enough that they both do their best to avoid acknowledging it altogether.

They walk in silence for a few steps before Bucky slings his arm over Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout it no more. He’s not getting us ever again, and we’re going to be eighteen soon so he can’t touch us.”

Bucky’s giving him a bright smile, but it’s tight. He’s trying his best to believe his own words. The least Steve can do is believe them too.

“Yeah, that bastard can’t touch us.”

“Exactly. Now c’mon, quit gripin’ we got work to do.”

Their moods lift exceptionally for the remainder of the way to the distribution centre. The summer sun’s rays soak them and they enjoy the heat before it becomes too sweltering.

They’re laughing as they walk through the gates at some dumb joke Bucky makes about Rumlow.

“Sorry we’re late fellas, _somebody_ was playin’ sleeping beauty.” Bucky calls to everyone, but he goes ignored.

In fact, now that Steve thinks about it there definitely shouldn’t still be this many people around at this time. Nearly everyone from the lodging house is still there, as well as Tony and they’re all standing staring at the day’s headline.

“Hey what’re we all standing around for?” Steve calls.

As soon as he’s heard all heads swivel round and the yelling begins.

“Look at this Steve!” Clint shouts. “Newspaper prices are up!”

“Sixty for a hundred!” Sam continues. “We don’t have that kind of money!”

“Woah, woah, lets just calm down.” Soothes Steve as he reads the headline for himself. “It’s a joke, right?” He looks to Bucky who just shrugs. “It’s got to be a joke.”

Just then Sitwell shows up along with Rumlow.

“Line up for papers!” He yells, a suspicious smile on his weasel face.

“Nice joke.” Steve tells him, slamming down his quarters. “Give me a hundred.”

Sitwell just looks at the money and laughs.

“A hundred costs sixty, you’re ten short.”

Steve just stares at him.

“That ain’t right,” Bucky cuts in. “You can’t just stick the prices up!”

“Who said it was me? I’m just doing my job.” Sitwell looks way too happy about all this for it to ‘just’ be his job.

“Fine, we’ll go to The Stane!” Bucky declares, stomping towards the gates.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Natasha suddenly comes through the gates. “Prices are up there too, same with The Ultron.”

“What about The Shield?”

“Same every place!” Rumlow laughs.

“You shut up!” Bucky points his finger angrily.

“You want to lose the other arm ya lousy freak?”

“You know what—” Steve grabs Bucky by the collar to hold him back.

“Bucky don’t, he ain’t worth it.”

“Steve, what are we going to do?” Bruce asks quietly. “We could end up on the streets.”

Steve looks at all the faces looking up at him, begging him to fix this.

They believe in him, they think he can fix this, they think he knows what to do.

Gazing upon his friends’, his family’s crestfallen and worried faces, Steve feels something in his chest stir. He’s angry, angry at how these big men in their towers think they can just order them around like this, bully them into submission all because they’re poor. It ain’t right, and Steve won’t take it.

He looks to Bucky on his right. He’s angry and upset, just like everyone else, but there’s something else too. He looks almost hopeless.

Not because he doesn’t believe in Steve - Steve knows that Bucky thinks Steve could save the whole world - but because Bucky’s been stomped on his whole life, he probably doesn’t think that this is any different.

Steve stands straight and sets his jaw. No, this time will be different. He won’t let anyone step on Bucky, not anymore.

“We’re going to strike, just like those construction workers.” He declares.

For a moment everybody just blinks at him.

And then there’s an eruption of chaos.

Everybody begins cheering and stomping, a loud chant of _Strike!_ breaking out. Bucky grins next to Steve and joins in, pounding his fist in the air.

“Wait! Wait!” Tony yells over the crowd suddenly, bringing the celebrations to a stop. “We can’t just _strike_.”

“Maybe you can’t but we definitely are!” Sam yells and the chant starts up again.

“Does anyone have any idea how to actually strike?” Tony interrupts once again and every face turns to him.

“Uh, you just don’t work?” Clint tells him.

Tony rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, ain’t as easy as that. You need to be a _union_ to strike.”

“And what do you call this?” Steve asks. “We’re together, we’re united. That makes us a union.”

“No, it really doesn’t. You need to have certain things to be a union, like membership - and yes, sure you’ve got that.” Tony cuts Steve off before he can get his argument out. “But you need officers.”

“Well how ‘bout it Steve? You wanna be president?” Bucky pipes up.

“I’d be honoured. What else we need Tony?”

“A statement of purpose, that means a reason for striking.”

“Uh, the price raise is unfair?” Steve declares, as if it’s clear. Which it is.

“I second it!”

“And would you like at that Bucky just made Vice President.”

Tony sighs.

“You can’t just do this all because you say so.”

“Why not? We got membership, a President _and_ a statement of purpose.”

“It’s just- it’s not going to work.”

“Who cares?” There’s a bit of protest behind Steve but he carries on. “We’re standin’ up for ourselves, showin’ these rich guys that we won’t just roll over and let them stomp all over us. I mean, I get it if _you’ve_ never experienced what that’s like Tony.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“That’s a cheap shot Rogers.”

“Cheaper than our papers.”

“Forget this, forget you, I’m working.” Tony marches forward to Sitwell but Thor pulls him back by his collar.

“You ain’t workin’ if we ain’t!” Clint yells.

“If he don’t want to join us I say we just soak him!” Sam declares, earning cheers all round.

Steve looks to Bucky, who’s chewing his lip. He seems to be in a war of morality at letting some kid get beat up just because he doesn’t want to strike. Steve is the same, as annoying and unfair as it is that Tony won’t join, he sees his point and knows it’s not worth a beating over.

“Okay, okay let’s just calm down.” He soothes. “Ain’t nobody gettin’ soaked in our strike. Tony, listen.”

He puts his hand on Tony’s shoulder only to be shrugged off. Still, he continues.

“Look, what I said was unfair, and I’m sorry. We’re all getting riled up because this is our lives, if we let them put the prices up, who knows what they’ll think they can do to us next without nobody saying anything about it.”

“Like kick us out the lodging house.” Clint supplies.

“Or replace us with wagons.” Adds Bruce.

“Or lock us up in the refuge.” Bucky says.

“Exactly, if we roll over now, it’s over. We have to stand up, we have to say no and look after not only ourselves, but each other. We’ve got to have each others backs.” Steve looks to Tony. “But we understand if you can’t, it’s a risk, one worth taking, but still a risk.”

Tony crosses his arms and scowls, But appears to think.

“Fine.” He says after a moment. “I’ll join your stupid strike.”

“Well folks,” Steve claps his hands together. “Looks like we’re on strike!”

The cheering starts up again.

“So, who do we tell?” Bruce asks.

“Shitwell!” Bucky yells, gaining the attention of the very confused distributor. “We’re on strike!”

“I heard you the first three times!” Sitwell scowls. “And I don’t know what you expect me to do about it, tell someone who actually has control!”

“Fine, we will!” Bucky spins around and links his arm with Tony. “C’mon, we’re going to pay Mr Pierce a visit.”

“What do you need me for?” Tony groans.

“You’re a rich kid, if we’re gonna get through those doors we need some class.”

“Yeah you ain’t getting that from me anymore, you ever heard of bankruptcy?”

“Sure, sure, but you used to have it, and you can pretend to have it again.”

 

Storming angrily into The Hydra building is easy, the newsies support rallying behind them causing them to grow wild and angry as they march through the front doors.

The guard to Pierce’s office isn’t one to crumble though.

“You kids can’t be here!” He yells, pulling out a baton. “Get out of here before I beat some sense into you!” “

Steve and Bucky share a look, this is definitely something they did not see coming.

“Wait!” Tony exclaims to the guard. “I’m Howard Stark’s son, I need to talk to Mr Pierce about an investment opportunity.”

“Investment opportunity?” The guard scoffs. “Who’d want to invest in him? He’s worthless.”

“Not him, me. I’ve got all the brains, probably more, that he has, if Mr Pierce invests in me he could land himself a nice big payout.” Tony was sinking into his confidence, easily playing the part of airheaded heir with too much money. Except, without, well, the money.

“You don’t seem so smart kid.”

“I don’t _seem_ smart? I’m sorry but would you rather I be wearing a pair of thick rimmed glasses and a bow tie? No, I have class, I got that much from my father.”

The guard considers them for a moment, briefly glancing over at the office door.

“What's with your friends then?”

“My friends?” Tony rolls his eyes, playing the perfect part of disgust. Maybe because deep down he really felt it, but Steve’s not one to judge. “You think the son of a failed millionaire can just wander the streets as he pleases? _No_. I need protection, and these guys needed the cash.”

“Your bodyguards missing an arm.” The guard remarks, staring at Bucky’s sling.

“Yeah and you’re gonna lose a tooth if you don’t watch your mouth.” Bucky glares.

The guard eyes them all cautiously, before finally nodding and leading them to the door.

“Mr Pierce,” he knocks once and enters, beckoning the three of them in with him. “You have guests.”

Mr Pierce sits behind a large desk, his balding head focused downwards as he works.

“I don’t have any appointments.” He states, not even looking up.

“You’ll want to hear this one, Howard Stark’s kid says he has an investment opportunity for you.”

Pierce glances up and takes in the three of them.

Steve knows they probably don’t look like an investment worthy team with their dirty faces and scowls, yet, Tony holds himself high, as if he fits right in as an entitled and powerful businessman, and Bucky looks ready to throw hands, a David ready to take on Goliath, while Steve feels full of rage watching this man behind his desk, acting too important to care that he’s trying to ruin their livelihoods.

“Fine, what do you want?”

“I’m going to be frank with you Alex,” Tony takes a seat and kicks his feet up like he owns the place. “We’ve got something to tell you.”

“Something to tell me?” Pierce’s lip curls as he looks over each boy in front of him, his gaze lingering on Bucky.

“We sell your paper.” Steve takes over, choosing to stay on his feet. “But you raised your prices, and we can’t have that.”

“Oh really?” Pierce looks almost amused.

“We’re on strike, just thought you’d like to know.”

“Oh you’re on strike,” Pierce mocks, rolling his eyes. “Well, good luck with that, you won’t win and I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back.”

“Don’t hold your breath Alex.” Bucky tells him.

“I’ll do what I want!” Pierce slams his fist down onto his desk, breaking his nonchalance over the situation. “You three are _children_ , I run a _business_ , you have no idea how this world works. So what’re you’re going to do is,” He’s snarling now. “You’re going to march right out my office and back to your damn distribution centre and sell my damn papers. And do you know why you’re going to do that? Because _I_ am in charge, not _you_ and if you want to be able to eat this week, you’re going to do what I say.” Pierce relaxes back into his seat, looking smugly pleased with himself.

Steve shares a Look with Bucky and Tony. Tony has his eyebrows raised, silently asking _what now_? Bucky however is smirking, urging Steve to just punch this bastard’s face in. Unfortunately, Steve knows this won’t achieve anything.

Instead, he claps his hands together and shrugs.

“With all due respect sir,” he says politely because his Ma didn’t raise no crook, “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not going to do that, because we’re on _strike_. So, uh, we’re going to go, and strike, and let you do your work.”

Steve nods to Tony and Bucky and they turn to the door.

“You won’t win.” Pierce tells their backs.

“Sure we will,” Steve throws over his shoulder. “Who’s gonna stop us?”


	4. Suddenly I’m respectable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update this time. It’s also my favourite scene from newsies so hope you all enjoy!

  
Later the three of them meet up with everyone else at Lee & Kirby’s, the deli down the street from the lodging house, to discuss what to do next.

“We got to get the rest of the city to strike too,” Bucky explains. “It hits them harder if you can’t get a paper no place in New York.”

“So we’ve got to go talk to everyone. Thor you take the Eastside, see if you can talk Quill into joining in.”

“That will end well,” Loki rolls his eyes.

“Nat you take Harlem, Clint you take Hell’s Kitchen,”

“Steve you do know you just sent a deaf kid to talk to a blind kid?”

“Shut up Sam, me and Matt got it worked out.”

“Can I go to Queens?” Peter pipes up. “I want to see Miles.”

“Sure kid, Bruce you go to Queens with Peter. Loki take the Bronx, Sam you take— ”

“The Bowery, I got you Steve.”

“And that just leaves Manhattan.” Everybody turns away or averts their gaze. “C’mon guys, Manhattan ain’t that bad.”

“It’s not _Manhattan_ that’s bad.” Clint mumbles. “It’s just, like, what if their distributors are there?”

“You’re scared of distributors?” Tony deadpans. “Why would they even be around?”

“They’re friends with them! Only damn Newsies in New York that like theirs.”

“So you’re scared of these children because of their distributors?” A new voice breaks in. Steve recognises that voice, had thought he’d never hear it again when the owner disappeared on him yesterday.

All heads turn to the doorway of the empty deli, where the British girl with red lipstick stands. She has her notebook in her hands, pen at the ready.

“Uh, hi?” Tony narrows his eyes. “Can we help you?”

“You’re the newsies that are going on strike, aren’t you?” She purses her red lips.

“Yeah, we're on strike, who wants to know?”

“The whole of New York.” The girl rolls her eyes. “I want to write about you.”

Tony’s scowl drops off his face as he straightens his shirt.

“Well, write away sweetheart, ain’t no such thing as bad press.”

“Unless you’re bankrupt.” Sam snorts.

“It’s all relative.” Tony snaps. “Anyway, want an interview?” He wiggles his eyebrows at the girl.

“Woah, woah, woah, if anyone’s getting interviewed shouldn’t it be Steve?” Bucky cuts in before the girl can even shut Tony down. “He’s the damn president of the union for crying out loud.”

“Technically we didn’t vote—”

“Screw off Tony, ain’t nobody wants to hear from you.”

“Who’s to say? Not like anybody wants to hear your dumb retorts Wilson—”

“Do any of you actually know what you’re doing?” The girl demands.

“Uh, not really.” Steve replies honestly. The girl’s head whips round to him, her face softening when she recognises him.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Way to leave an impression Stevie,” Bucky laughs.

The girl shoots him a glare before shaking her head, recomposing herself back to professionalism.

“So, what’s your plan?” She asks Steve, flipping open the notebook.

Steve opens his mouth to explain, but Clint cuts in this time, his head cocked in confusion.

“But you’re a girl?”

“How observant of you.”

“No,” Clint flushes as everyone laughs around him. “I mean girls ain’t reporters.”

“Who says?” Nat challenges.

“I _mean_ ,” Clint tries again, slowly sinking under the glares of both the girl and now Nat. “Do they let girls write articles in the paper? I’m just askin’ cause if you ain’t a real reporter then we just gone end up telling all our secrets to some stranger.”

“Y’know, kid’s actually got a point.” Tony agrees. “I say we save our story for a real reporter.” There’s a small murmur of agreement amongst the boys around him, while the girl and Nat both stew.

“A real reporter?” Nat spits. “How come you get to decide?”

“You want to _save_ your story?” The girl looks downright offended, and honestly Steve is a little too on her behalf. “I’m sorry, but have you seen anyone give half a damn about you before? You think anyone else actually cares about a bunch a street kids who don’t want to work? _No_ , I have the power to give your strike the voice it so desperately needs.”

“But what if you don’t get published?”

“I will get published.” The girl promises harshly.

“What do you think Captain?” Tony rounds to Steve.

Steve doesn’t even have to think.

“Of course she’s a real reporter knucklehead.” He hits Tony over the head. “And of course you can have our story, ain’t nobody I’d rather have. Make sure you’re at Newsies square tomorrow, that’s gonna be one hell of a story.”

The girl gives him a small smile and Bucky claps his back.

“Just cause you’ve got the hots,” Tony mumbles under his breath.

“So,” The girl starts again. “What’s the plan, Captain?”

“We’re getting everyone else on board, but everyone is too damned scared to go to Manhattan.”

“We tolds ya, we don’t want to see their distributors!”

“Why? Charles is a nice guy.”

“It’s not Charles we don’t like, Erik’s the creep.”

“He sure is, he even scares Nat!”

“I’m not scared! He just makes me uncomfortable.”

“And Logan too! What’s up with that kid? He looks like he’d kill ya just for breathing too loud.”

“That’s because he threatened to do just that to you Clint, Raven too.”

“Oh don’t even get me started on her.”

“I like Wade!”

“Shut up Peter, nobody likes Wade. The minute that kid opens his mouth I want to hurl myself off the Brooklyn bridge.”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” Bucky yells over the rabble. “Yous all too damn scared, we get it. Me and Steve will go speak to Scott, Tony you’re comin’ too. Okay, so is everyone clear now that we’re the ones sufferin’ Manhattan?”

There’s a mumble of agreement as everyone pulls themselves up to go do their part.

Steve hangs back as everybody leaves, telling Bucky to wait for him outside.

“So, uh, you got a name?” He asks the British girl, who’s scribbling down in her notebook.

She looks up at him, her face softening once again.

“Peggy Carter.” She states.

“Nice to meet you Miss Carter, Steve Rogers.” Steve sticks out his hand to Peggy.

“Please, just Peggy.” She shakes his hand firmly. “What’s the plan for tomorrow then?”

“The newspapers get delivered tomorrow, even if we’re on strike, we’re just gonna make sure they don’t go out.”

“And how do you plan on accomplishing that?”

Steve shrugs. “Just gonna have to wait and see.”

“Oh, I’m sure we all will.” Peggy writes something down in her notebook.

“So, uh, how come you’re here?”

“I told you, you’re making a story I want to write.”

“Nah, I heard ya.” Steve huffs a laugh. “I mean here in New York, you don’t sound like you’re from here.”

“Oh,” Peggy’s cheeks gain a hint of pink. “My father moved us here from England a couple of years ago, he said it’s the land of opportunity.”

“Sure, if you wants it to be.”

“What does that mean, Captain?” She smirks slightly at the nickname, causing Steve’s own cheeks to heat up a little.

“I just, it just ain’t what I want anymore. But I never had the choice, y’know? I dunno, maybe it’s just bad memories.”

“Where would you go, if it was your choice?”

“I don’t know, someplace with colour I guess. I hate how grey and dark everything is here. I want a breath of fresh air.”

“Somewhere to do art?” She asks. For a moment Steve is confused, but then the girl pulls out yesterday’s paper, the one Steve was sketching on yesterday.

“You kept it.”

“Of course, it is of me, correct?”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, yeah, what were you sayin’? Someplace to do art?”

“Yes, art school or something, you’re really talented.”

“Ah, I could do better if I had colour, I just scribble now.” Steve scratches his neck sheepishly. “As long as I got some colour I don’t care where we end up.”

“Would you go alone?”

Steve shakes his head wildly.

“No way, ain’t no place I’m going without Bucky.”

Just then Bucky sticks his head around the door.

“You comin’ or not Rogers? Summers ain’t gonna wait around forever.”

Steve sighs fondly and gets up, shooting Peggy a smile as he does.

“Ain’t no place he’s going without me either it seems.”

“Oh, it’s clear.” Peggy has a knowing smile on her face. “Well, I'll see you and all your Newsies tomorrow then, Captain Rogers.”

“I look forward to it,” Giving Peggy a salute, Steve turns on his heel and follows Bucky, Peggy snorting in laughter behind him. 


	5. You’re still our brothers and we will fight for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make Scott Summers king of Manhattan? Yes, yes I did.

“I don’t see why you’ve dragged me along.” Tony whines as the three of them walk up the street towards the Manhattan boarding house.

“Because you’re so unlikeable that Summers will hopefully spend so much time hating you, he’ll forget how much he hates Steve.”

“Screw you Barnes.”

“Just telling it like it is.”

When they reach the front doors Bucky raps on them three times.

“I really hope Kurt answers,” he mumbles under his breath.

Unfortunately Bucky’s hopes go dimished, as the door pulls open and there stands a towering burly kid - who’s not _really_ a kid - with thick sideburns and a cigar hanging out his mouth.

“Logan,” Steve awkwardly waves, “Long time no see, huh?”

Logan glares at each of them, the scowl on his face slowly turning into a snarl.

“What’re you dumbasses doing here?” He demands.

“Logan! I’m hurt!” Bucky feigns hurt and clutches his chest, causing Steve to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “And here I thought we was the best of pals!”

“You thought wrong.”

“Aw Logan, I know you’re sweet on me, stop trying to hide it.”

“You little—” Logan’s grits his teeth and puffs his chest out.

“Hey, we’re just here to speak Scott,” Steve steps in before Logan can knock Bucky’s teeth out.

Logan angrily rounds on him, his breath coming out raggedy and bitter.

“Why?”

“Because we miss him so,” deadpans Bucky. Logan snarls again and takes a step towards him.

“Anything you want to say to Scott you can say to me.”

Logan’s an intimidating guy. He’s buff, more buff than Steve and Steve doesn’t think in all the years he’s known him that he’s ever smiled once. He always seems angry and Bucky always says the only way he could sell papers is if he threatened to shove them down the customers throats if they don’t buy.

Except, Bucky isn’t scared of him. Maybe because he knows real monsters, maybe because he’s the only one to push and push Logan and escape mostly unscratched. Maybe deep down Logan might actually like him.

No, Steve shakes his head. Logan doesn’t like anyone, that much is clear. Still, he respects the way Bucky just rolls his eyes and steps around Logan, strutting into the lodging house himself. It makes Steve proud to call Bucky his best friend.

Steve pulls Tony with him as he too shoves past Logan, leaving him snarling angrily in the doorway.

“Bucky!” Bucky’s suddenly tackled by two small children, attaching themselves to his legs.

“Hey ya little mutants,” Bucky ruffles the boy’s silver hair and shoots a wink to the little girl. “How’re you guys doin’?”

“We sold all our papers today!” The little boy exclaims. “We used that trick you taught us, look!”

The little girl fakes a coughing fit and stares up at Bucky with sad eyes. He barks a laugh and covers his face.

“Aw quit it Wanda, you’re killin’ me here!”

The girl immediately begins giggling and wraps her arms around Bucky’s waist.

“Are you here to hide again?” She asks.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head.

“Sorry kid, not this time. We actually need to speak to Scott, know where he is?”

“He’s playin’ cards! C’mon we’ll show you!”

The children detach themselves and run off, Bucky, Steve and Tony trailing after.

“Inspiring the youth, yeah?” Tony nudges Bucky.

“Screw off Stark, just cause kids don’t run and hide when they see my face.”

The children lead them into a crowded bunk room, with Logan following after sulkily. There’s an argument going on in the middle of the room where a group of kids sit with cards and pennies, all going forgotten as the kids argue playfully. A younger kid with burn scars marring his face and exposed arms jumps around frantically, animatedly debating. The older kids around him rolls their eyes or sigh, trying and failing to shoot him down or calm him. The oldest kid, one with tinted glasses and a heavy frown opens his mouth to probably chastise the kid, but clamps it shut and scowls when he spots his guests.

“Uh, hey Scott.” Once again Steve awkwardly waves, these guys just get him that way. Scott just raises an eyebrow.

“You got something you need?”

“I tried to stop em’,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah well you didn’t do a very good job.”

“Dickhead.”

“Scott,” a red headed girl to Scott’s left nudges him, Steve recognises her as Jean, Scott’s girlfriend. She can actually be quite nice, compared to her friends.

“Look Scott, we ain’t here for no trouble, we just want to talk?”

“About what?”

“Well, uh, you know how, uh, the prices went up?” Steve doesn’t know why he can’t get his words right, why he sounds stuttery and unsure.

Maybe it’s all the faces staring up at him, actually wanting to hear what he has to say for once, or maybe this strike is all becoming real.

Back at Pierce’s office they were on a high. The first taste of rebellion and anger left them hungry and wanting more, but now, standing in front of Scott Summers and all the Manhattan newsies to ask for their help? It’s a little daunting.

“Yeah, they went up.” Scott brings him back to reality. “What about it?”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair?” Bucky asks. There’s a murmur of agreement around the room and Scott shrugs his shoulders.

“Sure it’s unfair, but what’re we going to do?”

“Out of curiosity,” Tony pipes up. “Just what _are_ you doing about it?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It _means_ , I’m asking what you did when you saw the headline this morning. You just pay the extra money and carry on?”

A hush falls over the room, everybody - including Scott - reluctant to meet their gazes.

“Our distributor spotted us all some papers.” Scott mumbles eventually, still not making eye contact.

Steve’s eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Charles gave you papers? For free?”

“Erik too!” The little girl who had greeted Bucky adds. “He can be nice.”

“What, so you _all_ got free papers?” Tony asks incredulously.

“Not all of them were free,” Jean tells them. “Just what we would’ve got if the prices hadn’t changed.”

“Still, that’s at least ten papers each, that’s nearly a third of their stock, how can they even swing that?”

“They just do.” Scott snaps. “Why are you so interested in what we’re doing anyway, what’s your plan?”

“We’re on strike.” Steve declares, though his words don’t come out as powerful as he’d hoped. He hears Logan scoff behind them and Scott sighs.

“Strike? Yeah, cause you guys will definitely win that.”

“Who’s to say we won’t?” Bucky challenges.

“Do you idiots even read the papers you sell? Those construction workers who went on strike all got their heads bashed in, some of them are even dead, you guys don’t stand a chance.”

“Not like you to get scared Summers,” snipes Bucky.

“I ain’t scared! I’m being realistic!”

“And just how long are you guys gonna be spottin’ papers from your distributors? It ain’t a permanent solution.”

“I know that! But it was the only solution we had when we all showed up to work without enough money.”

“So what’s the rest of us to do? Suck it up and hope our distributor grows a heart?” Tony joins in.

“How is that our problem?” Logan gripes.

“Because we’re supposed to stick together! We’re all newsies, we’re all here in New York, we’re all stuck.” Bucky argues.

“We ain’t sticking together when we’re selling, we don’t share customers.” Logan moves away from the doorway now, standing next to Scott.

“Okay, we don’t share customers but that don’t mean we don’t look out for each other. Do you let the little kids go hungry, Logan? Or do you watch kids run themselves into the ground trying to sell their last papers? Wait, don’t answer that,” Bucky holds a hand up when Logan opens his mouth, “I already know the answer, and it’s _no_. I know for a fact cause’ I seen it with my own eyes! You too Scott! I see you guys sharing your scraps, damn, Logan you’ll give kids all your food for the sake for it! And face it, both of you, you help kids sell papers too because that’s the right thing to do. Because other kids helped you, dammit _me and Steve_ even helped you Scott. And don’t go saying you only look out for your own, I see you guys slipping papers and pennies to our Peter as much as we all do to Pietro and Wanda. So don’t go tellin’ me that yous are looking out for yourselves, cause ya ain’t. And you know what? We ain’t either. That means when your solution stops working, when Charles and Erik stop handin’ out freebies, or, or get fired cause I’m pretty sure that ain’t allowed, and the prices just go up, we’ll still fight for you all. Because we’re in this together, whether you like it or not.”

Steve stands stunned at his best friend. Here he was thinking that he was the one in charge of this strike, but then Bucky goes and pulls _that_ out the bag. It’s so powerful Steve almost wants to quit the strike just to rejoin at Bucky’s words. He’s so damn proud of his best friend he can’t even hide his beam.

Scott and Logan share a look, then Scott glances back at everyone else around the room.

“Bucky,” he sighs. “I want to help, you know I’ll always help you.” Steve’s spirits soar for a minute, they’ve done it, they’ve got Manhattan on their side they’re—

“But,” Scott continues. “We read the paper, I can’t let these kids get their skulls bashed in, I’m responsible here. I’m sorry, it’s too risky.”

“At least think about it?” Steve finds himself pleading, a new surge of hope for the strike bubbling up in his chest.

“We’ll—” Scott cuts off as he looks around the room again, everyone still staring up at him. “We’ll think about it, okay?”

“That’s all we ask. And like I said, we’ll fight for you and you’re always welcome to march with us.” Bucky tells him.

  
Later, when it’s just Steve and Bucky back on their rooftop beneath the stars, Steve asks about the speech.

“Where’d that come from Buck? That stuff about us all stickin’ together?”

Bucky huffs a laugh.

“I dunno, you put the thoughts in my head and I just made them words.”

“You got it from _me_?”

“Well, duh. You’re the Captain of this strike ship, ain’t you supposed to be inspirin’ us and that?”

“Yeah but Bucky, where’d you pull _that_ out of?”

“I told ya, it was _you_ ya idiot. You’re the guy that taught me to always stick up for the little guy, even if the little guy don’t want to stick up for himself.”

“Where you gettin’ all this from?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard they nearly fall out his head.

“You’re so damn clueless Captain ‘I’ll run into anybody’s fight and take a beating for em’ ’. You see that everybody’s worth saving and whatever, maybe you’re rubbin’ off on me.”

Bucky stares up at the stars while Steve stares at Bucky. He’s in complete awe of his best friend.

Bucky’s so smart, smarter than he’ll ever know because he doesn’t believe it himself. But every time he opens his mouth he has Steve hanging on every word as if his words are water and Steve’s dying of thirst. The way he holds himself, strong and stable despite the attempts of nearly every damn crook on this earth to bring him down, makes Steve’s chest just a little tighter. And it’s not tight like when he was younger and his lungs would rattle in the winter, no, this tightness is his heart swelling with - with something that Steve can’t quite name. But it’s nice and he’s going to hold onto that feeling for as long as he can.

Even now, staring at Bucky staring at the stars Steve can feel it, as well as a tingling in his bones. The stars shine bright in Bucky’s blue eyes and the moonlight dances over his skin, highlighting each scar and blemish, but still Steve can’t help but think his best friend is beautiful. He almost wants to pull out his sketchbook and preserve this moment, but he knows he doesn’t have the colours to do Bucky justice.

Except, looking at him, at his soft pink lips, and his fluffy hazel brown hair, Steve doesn’t find himself caring about not having the right colours anymore. Because Bucky is all the colours he’ll ever need, from the faded white of his scars right down to the purpling bruises around his wrist that never seem to want to leave.

Suddenly, all Steve can think about is how damn beautiful Bucky is. He’s thought this before, has been thinking so since he found out what that word meant, but he’s never mentioned it, not with the way the law works.

Still, here on the rooftop, Steve doesn’t care. Steve wants to show Bucky just how beautiful he thinks he is.

He begins leaning closer, his arm sneaking around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky settling in against it. He’s just about to go for it, has even licked his lips, when Bucky opens his mouth.

“Besides, we know as well as anyone why it’s best to stick together,” he continues the conversation from earlier. Steve smiles and drops his head onto Bucky’s shoulder, losing his nerve for what he was about to do. “We learnt that in the refuge, everybody thinks you’re on your own, but we’s the ones that escaped and we did it together.”

Steve nods into his shoulder, thoughts of the refuge completely killing his nerve now.

“Are you scared of going back?” He asks instead.

“No!” Bucky states firmly, though his eyes say different when Steve looks up into them.

“It’s okay Buck, I’m scared too.”

“Don’t be, we ain’t ever going back.”

“Bucky,” Steve swallows and sits up, ready to voice the thoughts he’d had since he told Peggy about newsies square tomorrow. “There’s a chance it could happen and—”

“Nope, nope, nope.” Bucky shuts him down. “It ain’t happening and you know why?”

Steve shakes his head, a fond smile pulling on his lips.

“Because we save each other, we’ve got each others backs and that ain’t going to happen on either of our watches, I just know it.”

“You know it, do you?”

“Yup, and when am I ever wrong?”

“When you said it’d be a good idea to store the papers in the sewer when we got tired of lugging them around.”

“Okay that was one—”

“And that time you told Sam a falcon wasn’t a bird.”

“They can’t be!”

“Or the time—”

“Okay, okay we get the picture wise guy.” Bucky cuts him off and Steve laughs, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder again. “You keep laughing, one of these days you’ll do something real stupid and I’ll hold it over your head for eternity.”

“Oh Bucky, you have no idea how close I come.”

“Yeah yeah whatever ya big lug. Get some sleep will ya, we got a big day tomorrow.”

“Yes Ma.”

“Jesus, Stevie don't call me that, I’ll never be half the person your Ma was.”

“I dunno Buck, you’re getting closer each day.”

“You shut up with your daydreamin’, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Steve just hums sleepily as he nods off against Bucky’s shoulder.

He almost doesn’t catch Bucky’s murmured,

“I don’t know what I’m sayin’’ either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is an honorary member of the x men of course


	6. When you got a hundred voices singing who can hear a lousy whistle blow

The sun rises the next day and with it so do Steve’s hopes for the strike. He wakes alone, finding a hastily scrawled note from Bucky on the back of yesterday’s paper next to him.

 _Gone to do something with Tony, see ya at the gates Captain_ , it reads and there’s a stab of something in Steve’s chest. It can’t be jealousy, can it? Sure, Bucky don’t owe Steve nothing and he can absolutely run off with who he pleases to do what he pleases. It’s just, what’s he doing with Tony that he can’t do with Steve?

Still, Steve holds his head high as he walks to the gate alone, nothing can bring down his spirits, nothing can bring down the strike.

At least until he gets to the gates.

It’s early, earlier than usual, that’s what Steve tells himself to reason why there’s only a couple newsies standing there ringing their hands nervously.

“Steve!” Sam calls to him as he approaches. “Please tell me you got Manhattan.”

“Scott said he’d think about it.”

His response is met with a chorus of groans.

“Hey, hey calm down, it’s not like we’re alone, right? Sam what did Steven say?”

“He said he ain’t doin’ nothin’ til Manhattan do somethin.’”

“Same with Luke.” Nat chimes in.

“Seriously? Bruce what about T’Challa?”

“Said it’s too big a risk and there’s not enough of us if Scott won’t take part.”

“Thor, any luck?”

Thor just mumbles something incorrigible and shakes his head.

“Him and Quill got into a fight.” Loki supplies.

Steve lets out his own groan and leans against the gate, feeling the hope he’d woken up with begin to deflate.

“What’re we going to do Steve?” Sam asks.

“I say we just don’t work, that’ll send a message, right?” Bruce says.

“No way, they’ll just replace us.”

“Then how do we fight?”

“Hey everyone!” Suddenly there’s a shout and Steve snaps his head around to see Bucky and Tony walking towards them, a banner held between them and the rest of Brooklyn’s newsies trailing after. “Look what we made!”

As they come closer Steve can read on their banner the word strike in big block letters.

“We could hang it on the gate, let the world see we’re on strike.” Tony tells them, giving the banner a little wave.

“I like it,” another new voice joins as Peggy steps out from behind the banner. “You could all pose in front of it for the picture.”

“A picture?” Sam’s eyes widen at the news. “I didn’t know we was getting a picture!”

“Of course, you need something to accompany your story on the front page.”

“I hate to break it to you, but there isn’t much of a story right now, we’re completely alone in this.” Loki states.

Tony frowns and lowers his fist holding the banner.

“You mean we couldn’t get anyone?”

“No one.”

A mumbling breaks out through them all, nobody quite sure how to proceed.

“Wait a minute!” Bucky yells. “So, we don't got the rest of the city, we’re all here, ain’t we?”

“Yeah until we all get our heads bashed in.”

“Does that mean we can’t strike?” asks Peter.

“It means we’re completely alone.”

“So what? It started with us, we’ll keep going. If we stick at it people will know we mean business, right Steve?”

“Bucky’s right.” Steve declares, his hope ballooning up in his chest again. Bucky could always do that to him. “We can do this because we got each other, we’ve got each other's backs, and that’s all we need. We’ll do this together.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees as he raises his and Bucky’s banner once again. “Plus, Rome wasn’t built in a day, it’ll get better and bigger the more we fight!”

“Yeah!” The majority of them shout their agreement too, however there are still a few uneasy faces.

Unfortunately Steve doesn’t get the chance to change their minds as the circulation bell rings and Sitwell and Rumlow make their entrance.

“Line up for newspapers!” Sitwell calls, a menacing smirk unfurling on his lips. “You’re either buying or trespassing!”

None of the newsies move, even those with the unsure faces. They all stand their ground.

But then a couple of boys push forward, boys Steve’s never seen before, and take the papers Sitwell and Rumlow are handing out.

“Who’re these guys!” Tony demands.

“They’re replacin’ us!”

“Let’s see how well they sell with two black eyes!” Clint lunges forward but Steve grabs him around the waist.

“Hey! We’re not fighting anyone!” He scolds. “What did I say yesterday, we can’t just fight who ain’t with us, that’s not how a union works! We stick together!”

“But they’re only helping them!” Clint points angrily at Sitwell and Rumlow, both of them laughing darkly.

“Then that’s their choice.” Steve rounds on the boys. “They can choose to suck it up and keep paying more, we ain’t going to stop them. But we’ll still fight for them, because we’re fighting for everyone.”

He steps towards the boys, each of them clutching their newspapers with gritted jaws.

“I know Pierce and Sitwell are probably giving you’s a little extra for doin’ this, and hey, who don’t need a little extra? But fellas, the thing is you can’t rely on these guys. Look what they did for crying out loud, pulling up the prices and expectin’ us to just take it lyin’ down. They think we won’t fight back, they think we ain’t allowed to say no. We are though, you can say no, you can fight back. This damn world thinks all the kids are here to run themselves into the ground for them, not just us newsies, but all the kids shining shoes and working the factories. They stomp and stomp on us and hide away in their towers watching us crumble. But not anymore, we don’t belong to them, we can say no. And we’re saying no.”

The boys share looks with each other before one throws his papers down.

“I’m saying no too!” He yells and is met with cheering from the newsies.

The other two bite their lips and try to back away, only for Sam and Tony to step forward.

“You don’t have to be with us,” Sam tells them.

“Just don’t be with them.” Tony nods over to Sitwell and Rumlow.

The boys take another glance around then nod, also throwing their papers down. More cheering erupts and Sam wraps his arms round the two of them.

“It’s time to say no!” Tony declares, kicking the newspapers and sending them flying.

Steve grins as the rest of them join in, newspapers falling apart and pages flying. He joins Sam and Nat in tipping the wagon over, throwing out the papers into the streets. He catches Sitwell and Rumlow sneaking away but he doesn’t care as he helps Tony hang the strike banner from the gates, letting it wave proudly in amongst the falling pieces of newspaper. Bucky stands on the other side of the square, Steve can see him with Peter and the boys they’d stopped from selling jumping on batches and ripping papers above their heads to throw like confetti. It’s chaotic but in a joyful way, the sound of laughter and cheering filling the air around them. Peggy grabs Steve’s shoulder with her own beam stretched across her red lips and waves her notebook in her hand.

“Let me get my picture!” She yells happily. “Let me get all your faces on the front page!”

Steve calls everybody over to the gates, tells them all to stand happy and proud right in front of the banner his friends made.

“We’re in this together!” He yells as the camera flashes. “We’ll win together!”

All too soon things come crashing down though.

Only moments after the picture is taken comes the thundering of footsteps, loud enough to be heard over their strike’s organised chaos.

Suddenly, Sitwell and Rumlow have returned, this time accompanied by thugs, all of them big and all of them menacing.

Sitwell taps a club against the gate, his little weasel smile plastered across his little weasel face.

“My, what a mess you children have made.” He smirks, then slams the club even harder.

This seems to be a starting bell for the thugs, and they all come thundering towards them.

But the newsies don’t back down, they’ve started this fight and they’re going to keep fighting.

Chaos ensues once again but this time there’s no laughing, no cheering. This time it’s brutal, fists are flying, kicks are landing but the kids hold their ground, refusing to back down. Steve catches Rumlow chasing after Peter and punches him right in the jaw to stop him. Rumlow goes tumbling down and Steve grabs Peter, hiding him behind the broken wagon.

“Stay here,” he tells him before rushing back into the fight. Someone lands a right hook into his eye but he kicks back, sweeping the thug off their feet. He spots Bucky across the square again, this time landing a punch right into Sitwell’s tiny little nose. Bucky spots Steve staring and shoots him a wink then spins round to fight again.

At one point Steve ends up back to back with Tony, both of them lashing out furiously and watching each other’s backs.

“Nice hit,” Steve breathes when Tony sends a thug toppling.

“I’m more than just a pretty face Rogers,” he smirks.

Things seem to be going well, like they might actually win this, when suddenly a whistle blows.

Steve looks up and sees a swarm of police officers approaching. For a moment his heart soars, they’re getting help. But then an officer backhands Clint across the face and Steve’s heart drops. With the bulls here, they won’t stand a chance.

“Run for it!” He yells instead, pushing Tony ahead of him. Everybody seems to understand him and all his friends make a break for it, ducking and diving punches from thugs and police officers alike.

“Rogers!” comes a voice behind Steve and his heart falls right out his chest when he spins round. Schmidt stands before him with his own club, his evil smile wide and toothy. Steve doesn't even say a word to him, he just sprints as fast as he can, desperate to get away.

He finds himself climbing a nearby fire escape before realising that Schmidt isn’t following him. Risking a look back his blood runs cold as he sees the scene below him. Bucky is still in the square, pushing Peter ahead of him as Rumlow chases after. Suddenly Rumlow tackles Bucky down and punches his face, so hard that Steve can practically hear the crack of his nose. Bucky fights back between yelling for Peter to run, but is cut off when without warning Schmidt appears and drags him to his feet.

Steve’s down the ladder as quick as he can, trying to stumble through the crowd of running kids and angry thugs to get to Bucky, but Schmidt's too fast. He has Bucky's arm wrenched behind his back and begins hauling him away despite Bucky’s attempts to push him off.

“Steve!” He calls out when he spots him in the crowd. “Steve help!”

Steve keeps trying to push through, the tears welling up in his eyes when Schmidt slams his club into Bucky’s stomach, but he can’t get through, he’s too slow.

Schmidt hauls him away, Bucky kicking his legs out and fighting as hard as he can.

“Steve!” He calls out one last time before Schmidt hits him over the head, knocking him unconscious.

“No!” Steve screams, the tears rolling freely down his face as he surges forward but he won't make it. Schmidt is too far and his carriage is too close and there’s too many bulls and Steve wants to die. All he can do is watch as the crowd jostles around him and see Schmidt throw his unconcious best friend into the back and take off.

“Steve?” Suddenly there’s a pair of arms around his waist and when he looks down, there’s Peter, crying around a split lip. The thugs are still around, same as the bulls and Rumlow so Steve hoiks Peter up and runs in the opposite direction, leaving his heart broken and beaten in newsies square. 


	7. And if I’m gone tomorrow

After depositing Peter at the lodging house and dodging everybody’s words and gazes, Steve high tails it up the fire escape and to the rooftop.

Up there beneath the stars he stared up at with Bucky only a day ago, he breaks down. Sobs rip from his throat and the tears run freely and furiously down his bruised face. But Steve doesn’t care about that, he’s empty, he’s broken, it’s like he’s missing a piece of him. And he is.

He’s rarely been proper separated from Bucky like this, never not known whether or not he was safe, or, or even _alive_. This has only ever happened in the refuge when Schmidt would drag one of them to the basement, leaving the other behind just to punish them. Then Steve had that feeling of a fist gripping his heart tight, making it want to burst right through his ribs, until Bucky came back bruised and bloody but still somehow alive. That feeling is back again, except this time Bucky isn’t getting thrown back to him when Schmidt gets bored, this time Bucky’s getting thrown into some dirty rat infested bunk room to nobody, nobody who can patch him up and help him escape.

Because Steve left him. Steve didn’t help him.

He can still hear Bucky’s pleads, they’re running through his head repeating and repeating and Steve can’t make them stop. They’re so broken, so full of fear and it makes Steve break down all over again because Bucky’s _gone_. He’s trapped in the one place he never ever wanted to go back to, and this time he’s completely alone.

All because Steve left him.

All because Steve said they should strike.

All because Steve couldn’t help when Bucky got crushed before.

He crumbles to the ground and just keeps breaking down.

This is all his fault.

Bucky’s suffering, Schmidt won’t go easy on him, no way. They’ve escaped too many times, made a mockery of him too many times, no way is he going to just leave Bucky be.

No, he’ll bring out the whips and chains and knives and, and, and—

Steve can’t breathe. It’s like he’s a sickly child all over again, his lungs rattling painfully as he tries and tries to suck air in but it just won’t work.

He gasps and splutters around his sobs, and it feels like someone has their fingers wrapped tightly around his throat.

He’s suffocating, he’s dying at just the thought of Bucky being hurt.

Eventually, air finally squeezes through and Steve’s lungs don’t feel like they’re being crushed so bad. He sits up and leans against the wall to catch his breath, tears still leaking from his eyes and tumbling down his cheeks.

He thinks back to a couple mornings ago, when he told Bucky how he wanted to leave and Bucky smiled at him, so bright and so big despite how sleepy he must’ve been and told him he’d follow him anywhere. Steve’s kicking himself for not taking Bucky and running right there and then. They’d have been safe, far away from cruel businessmen and evil wardens. Away from the towering grey buildings and the filthy blood stained streets where colour seems to die the minute it appears. Steve just wants to go, somewhere clean, somewhere colourful, somewhere safe. And he wants Bucky there at his side. He needs Bucky at his side.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Steve pushes himself up. His legs wobble momentarily and he has to grasp onto the side of the fire escape to keep from crumbling again. Still, he soldiers on and slips down the fire escape, trying to be quiet.

The others are probably asleep by now, the events of the day will have taken their toll and sent them all to the brink of collapsing. Honestly, Steve’s there too now that the adrenaline is fading, but he has to do this. He has to see Bucky, even just to make sure he’s still alive.

Schmidt can’t have gotten him too bad already, right? Steve keeps telling himself that as he makes his way towards his worst nightmare.

Bucky will be okay, Bucky will be okay, _Bucky will be okay_ , he repeats to himself like a mantra. It has to be true, it has to. Steve doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s not.

  
It takes what feels like an eternity for Steve to find the right window when he finally reaches the refuge. It’s late, so late that the moon sits high in the sky surrounded by the flickering stars.

The stars remind Steve of the previous night, he remembers the way they shon in Bucky’s eyes, yet now it seems like they’re mocking him. Like they’re little pieces of Bucky, close enough for Steve to stare at in awe but too far away to hold.

When he finally reaches the last window, the last possible one he could check, he almost breaks down all over again as he peers inside. Bucky’s directly below it, they always made sure to grab the bunk closest to the window, lying on his side curled into a ball.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers through the bars. They’re new, he notices, probably put in place from the last time they escaped. Bucky stays still.

“Bucky!” Steve whispers a little more urgently, but still nothing. Steve begins to fear the worst as he picks up a rock and gently tosses it at Bucky’s back.

His fears go admonished though when a groan escapes Bucky and he turns over to face the window. He spots Steve through the bars and smiles, pushing himself off the bed and limping over. Steve frowns at the limp, then full on gasps when Bucky stands before him, the moonlight shining into his face.

He looks like a horse and carriage ran right over him, then backed up, and did it again. There’s dry blood caking the entire left side of his face, probably spilled from the nasty gash he’s got across his forehead. Both of his eyes are black, and the white of his left eye is completely red, like a blood vessel burst in it. His lip is split, he’s missing a tooth and there’s purpling finger shaped bruises wrapped right around his neck.

He still smiles though, big and bright and reserved just for Steve.

“Stevie,” He croaks, his voice probably damaged from where those finger bruises came from. “Stevie you’re okay.”

Steve feels tears slipping down his face once again.

“Yeah I am,” he breathes. “But you ain’t.”

“Aw don’t worry about me Stevie, just been runnin’ my mouth is all.”

“Bucky,” Steve chokes and before he knows it he’s crying again. “What, what did he do?”

“He’s just mad about us checking out early last time, he’ll get over it.” But Bucky doesn’t seem to believe his own words. His lip wobbles and his fingers are shaking where they rest on the window ledge.

“What did he use?”

“Steve you don’t—”

“Bucky tell me.”

Bucky lets a sigh escape his cracked lips.

“He got the whips out again,” he mumbles. “And other stuff too but I ain’t doin’ so good at rememberin’.”

Bucky looks down and worries his lip between his teeth.

“Listen, Stevie, if I don’t make it out—”

“Don’t talk like that.” Steve cuts him off. “You’re gettin’ out, I’m gettin’ you out.”

“Not tonight you ain’t. He put up bars Steve, he’s got the place on lockdown. He knows our tricks and we’re all out. Plus, look at me, I ain’t in no state to make a run for it.”

“I’ll carry you, I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah when I got drunk on Mr Coulson’s liquor on the Fourth of July last year, this is different.”

“It ain’t, I’ll figure something out, I’m getting you out Buck.”

“Stevie no, don’t do nothing stupid,” Bucky’s voice cracks. “He’s real mad this time, I don’t want you getting locked up here too.”

Steve looks around desperately, determined to find something to get Bucky out right here right now.

“Stevie look at me, I got to tell you something.”

Steve reluctantly meets Bucky’s gaze, and feels his heart split in two at the look he’s giving him. He looks so desperately hopeless, worse than when they read the headline about the prices. This time, he looks like he’s got no hope left in him, like he’s accepted that he’s going to die.

“Listen, if I ain’t here tomorrow, I need you to keep going. Keep fighting for everyone, you’re going to change the world Stevie, you’re going to save everyone. It just breaks my heart that I won’t get to see it.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know how to tell Bucky that no, he’s not going to die, Steve won’t let him, he just needs to hold on a little longer.

So Steve doesn’t say a word.

Instead he leans in and does what he’s wanted to do for so long.

Their lips crash together sloppily, their teeth clashing. Bucky tastes like blood and Steve’s pretty sure he tastes like salty tears, but it’s not important. What is important is that Bucky’s kissing Steve back, just as fiercely as Steve and for a moment, Steve forgets where he is.

Then Bucky pulls back.

“Steve, somebody could see.”

“I don’t care, I love you Bucky.”

That has Bucky leaning in again, this time more tender and passionate, like they’ve been doing this the whole damn time.

Eventually they do have to pull back for air, and Bucky looks ready to black out.

“You punk, why couldn’t you have done that sooner?” He teases anyway.

“I didn’t know what you’d say.”

“You know me better than I know me Stevie, you woulda known.”

“So, uh, it’s mutual?”

Bucky laughs, it’s cracked and hoarse but it’s still Bucky’s laugh that Steve wouldn’t mind listening to for the rest of his life.

“I love you too Steve, you have no idea.”

Steve chuckles, despite the situation.

“I think I might have some kind of idea.” Bucky smiles too and Steve leans their foreheads together. “Bucky, I promise you, I will get you out. I’ll get you out and we’ll run away, someplace nice and safe and away from this stinking city.”

Bucky lets out a soft laugh.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Stevie.”

“I’m not, I never would, not to you.”

“Steve, I could—”

“You won’t.”

“Steve!”

One of the boys from another bunk tells them to shut up and Bucky lets out a sigh.

“I’m scared Stevie.”

“Me too, but I’m not going to break my promise. You’re going to be fine.”

“I always try to believe in you, you know I always will, but Steve, I just don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I know Bucky, I’ll get you out.”

There’s a shout then and Steve glances down the fire escape to see a guard wandering the courtyard.

“Get out of here,” Bucky hisses.

“No, not without you,” Steve argues back, but the shouts begin to come closer.

“Go figure something out, I won’t let you get locked up here too, then we’re both screwed.”

Steve bites his lip and looks down. Bucky’s right, there’s no use both of them getting stuck.

“I’ll come back,” he promises one last time.

“Okay.” Bucky says and gives him a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I love you,”

“I love you too Stevie.”

With that Steve presses his lips to Bucky’s one last time then disappears into the night. 


	8. So just move on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it’s been so long - life keeps getting in the way 
> 
> Also thank you for your comments and kudos, I read every single one!

The next afternoon finds Steve in the back of Miss Maria’s gym, beating the life out of a punching bag. With every hit he hears Bucky’s screams and he keeps his eyes screwed shut to block out the picture of Bucky’s black and blue face.

Unfortunately he doesn’t get to hide away forever, as all too soon he’s found by Peggy, Tony, Sam and Nat. And they’re all looking too damn happy.

“Steve, look you made the front page!” Peggy exclaims happily, shoving today’s paper under his nose. She’s right, there spread across the front page, _above the fold_ , is Steve and all his friends, smiling triumphantly, thinking they’ve won. He spots Bucky in the bottom row next to Thor, grinning so happily and he shoves the paper away.

“Aren’t you excited? We’re famous!” Tony exclaims.

Steve scowls.

“Did you all miss what happened after we took that picture? Or are your concussions that bad?”

Their smiles drop.

“Look, sure we got beat up—”

“We got more than beat up, have you guys looked in the mirror recently?”

The four of them share sheepish looks.

“It’s just a couple of black eyes and split lips,” Tony tries to reason. “Not like anybody died.”

“Nobody’s died yet!” Steve roars.

His friends take a step back, not expecting the sudden outburst. Steve just lets out a sigh and turns back to the punching bag.

“Listen, I know it must be rough for Bucky to be back there,” Tony starts but Steve cuts him off.

“You don’t know, you’ve never been there.”

“Okay, so I haven’t, but they can’t kill him, right?” Tony looks to Sam and Nat for confirmation but they both avoid eye contact.

“Is he worse than last time?” Sam asks Steve instead.

“Yes.” Steve replies, not looking round. “He’s got all his limbs, but… I don’t know. He doesn’t look good.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” Peggy demands.

Steve spins round angrily.

“No, I’m not giving up on Bucky, I’m getting him out.”

“Yeah I’m sure destroying a couple of punching bags is really helping.” Tony snarks.

“Well I can’t just go waltzing in during daylight!”

“You can’t just go waltzing in anyway.” Peggy shoots back. “You can’t abandon the strike and land yourself in there too.”

“This ain’t abouts the strike no more.”

“Since when?”

“Since I lost my best friend!”

“And do you think he wants you moping about it now? Do you think he wants you to give up?”

Steve points his finger in Peggy’s face.

“You don’t know anything about Bucky.”

Peggy glares and shoves Steve back.

“No but I know that he believes in you, and this strike and that you’re just letting him down if you give up! Weren’t you the one that said we had to stick together, that we had to have each other’s backs?”

“Well yeah but—”

“And how is just abandoning everyone going to help Bucky?” Tony adds. “When we win we’ll demand Pierce let’s him go. We won’t stop fighting until he does.”

“ _When_ we win?”

“Yes, _when_ we win. Pierce is scared and we’re not alone anymore, we will win.”

Steve scoffs and goes to turn but Nat grabs his shoulder.

“Do you think Pierce would send that many bulls if he wasn’t scared?”

“No but—”

“And do you think all those boroughs we visited are reading the paper and thinking we’re still going to lose?” Sam asks.

“Well—”

“Face it Steve, we’re onto something here and it ain’t slowing down.”

Steve chews his lip and thinks. Sure, maybe Pierce is scared, and yeah, having their faces front page above the fold definitely isn’t going to bring them down, but he’s got Bucky to worry about.

Except, he’s been wracking his brains all day trying to think of escape plans but he’s coming up empty. There’s no way he’ll be able to do it himself, not with the state Bucky’s in, and if they do win it’ll show they can fight, and they can keep fighting to get Bucky out, right?

“Yeah, you’re right.” He agrees finally. “Let’s win this strike!”

His friends’ faces light up and they cheer, Sam fist pumping the air triumphantly.

“I knew you’d never give up Steve, always had faith in you.”

“What’s our plan then, what do we do next?”

“We think we should have a rally, y’know like what the construction workers did? And Peggy can report on it, we could even invite Pierce like what they did with their boss,”

“Where are we doing it? Not the square again?”

“We were thinking Miss Maria could help us out?” Steve grins and nods eagerly.

Once they have all the details of the plan smoothed out with Miss Maria, they all leave to set things in motion, but Steve hangs back to clear up after himself. He doesn't notice Nat hanging back with him until he turns to find her near enough on his toes.

“Nat you scared me,” he breathes. She smirks and pulls a piece of paper from her pocket.

“I saw James this morning,” she starts.

“You went to the refuge?” Steve’s eyes widen.

“I’ve not had as many trips as you and James, but I know my way.” Her lip curls slyly as she pushes the paper to Steve’s chest. “He asked me to give you this, said he meant to tell you everything in it when you visited, but you got _distracted_.” She’s got that knowing look in her eye and Steve’s face burns red.

“He told you about that?”

“James tells me everything, he’s such a gossip.” Huffing a laugh, Steve shakes his head and takes the letter.

“And for the record, nobody’s going to care,” Nat puts her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We all saw it coming a mile away.”

“You d-did?” Steve stutters.

“Yup. Now c’mon we’ve got a strike to win.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m comin’ just give me a minute, yeah?”

Nat gives him that look again and nods, leaving him alone with the letter.

Steve sighs and opens it up, his heart jumping in his throat when he recognises the familiar scrawl.

 _Hey punk_ , Steve reads, hearing Bucky in his head. _I meant to say all this when you was here, but I guess things went a bit differently. Ha. ha. Listen Stevie I know you made your promise and I want to believe it so bad, but I’m scared. So damn scared. Schmidt came in again after you left but he just stood there watching me, I don’t know what he wants but I was terrified out my damn mind. I don’t know if I’m going to make it so Stevie-_

Steve can’t keep reading, the tears welling up in his eyes making the writing blur together.

“Hey Steve!” Tony calls on him and Steve hastily wipes his eyes, shoving the letter in his pocket. He won’t need to read it anyway, he’s going to get Bucky out and he can tell him everything the letter said, right? Bucky’s wrong, he will make it through this. He will. It’s still hard for Steve to swallow though.

Soon the four of them have all the newsies gathered and spreading the news about the rally, each of them selling the papers with their faces plastered on them too.

Steve and Tony hit the streets together, just like when this all started. Steve bites his nails down thinking about Bucky still trapped in the refuge, but he soldiers on for Bucky’s sake. He started this for him, he’ll finish this for him.

At one point, just as the sun is beginning to set and their voices are beginning to grow hoarse, the two of them are approached by the guard form Pierce’s office.

Steve squares his shoulders as the guy comes closer, hands curling into fists prepared to fight.

“You don’t have to give me that look,” The guard tells them. “Just come with me, Mr Pierce wants to talk.”

“To talk? Or have us soaked?” Steve spits.

“Just to talk, it’s about the strike.”

“Well we didn’t think it’d be about Grandma’s sweet tea,” Tony rolls his eyes and shares a look with Steve. They silently agree to follow, though Steve keeps his fists tight at his side.

  
When they reach Pierce’s office, the guard opens the door for Steve, but then blocks Tony from getting in.

“Hey, you got a problem?” He demands.

“Mr Pierce only wants to see the leader of the strike.”

“We’re both the leaders.” Steve states before Tony can say anything.

“Not according to the paper.” The guard huffs. “Now go in, Mr Pierce doesn’t like being kept waitin’,”

Steve squares up again but Tony nudges him.

“Just go Steve, I’ll stay here.”

Steve wants to argue but the guard pushes him, sending him stumbling into Pierce’s office.

Pierce sits at his desk, surrounded by his staff, and, and the mayor?

“Ah, Mister Rogers,” Pierce smirks when he spots his guest. “So nice to see you again, although that shiner of yours definitely makes you seem quite _unprofessional_ , how on earth did you get it?” His smile turns downright evil as he stands up to greet Steve.

“Why don’t you ask your staff?” Steve snaps.

Pierce chuckles darkly and grips Steve’s shoulder.

“Oh Steven, don’t you remember when you were my staff? But you threw all that away didn’t you, just for some pennies.”

“It’s not just about pennies.” Steve shrugs him off. “What you did ain’t fair, so we’re fighting back.”

“So it’s justice you’re after? Well, you're certainly doing your best.”

“If you don’t mind me askin’, what the hell do you want Pierce?”

Pierce frowns and holds himself a little taller.

“Such terrible manners, you’re undeniably a newsboy. Nevertheless, your strike is garnering attention, _despite_ the blackout I put on the story. That pesky Shield just won’t follow rules, _and_ they stole my star reporter. Nevermind though, we’re still friends and she still likes to help me out.”

At Pierce’s words the door opens again and Peggy stumbles in, also pushed by the guard.

“Peggy?” Steve breathes.

“Oh good, you two are already so acquainted. Did Miss Carter tell you where she started out, did she mention how _close_ we are?”

“Steve—” Peggy tries to speak but Pierce cuts her off with a raise of his hand.

“Don’t try and talk yourself out of it now Miss Carter, not after all you’ve told me.”

“What did you tell him?” Steve snarls, rounding on Peggy.

“I—” She tries but is cut off again.

“You know, nothing major, she just mentioned your previous stints in Mister Schmidt’s refuge, your little friend locked up there now.” Steve spins back to face Pierce, only for his eyes to widen in fear when Schmidt himself steps out from behind him.

Steve goes to make a run for it but suddenly Rumlow is there, ready to hold him back.

“Don’t go running out on us now Rogers, it’s time to own up to your shortcomings. What was it you said Rogers was charged with Mister Schmidt?”

“Such a long list, at first it was stealing, then loitering, then misconduct, shall I go on?” Schmidt’s evil smirk matches Pierce’s.

“Would you look at that Rogers, that must be enough to put you away until you’re eighteen, and then some.”

“So what, you’re going to kill the strike by locking me up?”

“Well we could do that.” Pierce pretends to weigh his options, though his mind is probably already made up. “Or, alternatively we could cut a deal.”

“I don’t want no deal.” Steve spits, struggling in Rumlow’s grip.

“I think you might like this one. How about, at your rally this evening you speak out against this strike—”

“Never!”

“Listen to me!” Pierce backhands Steve across the face, causing him to taste blood. “If you speak out, we’ll let your little pal go.”

That stops Steve in his tracks.

“What?”

“You heard me. Your pal, your buddy, your— what’s the kid’s name?”

“Bucky.” Rumlow supplies.

“Your _Bucky_. You speak out and I’ll see your pal’s arrest for yesterday is wiped clean. We’ll even let you take off too. Or you could, y’know, keep fighting, keep being a nuisance and poor little Bucky won’t live to see the sunrise. Maybe even a couple of your other pals could land themselves there too, like that little Stark boy.”

Steve doesn't even have to think about it.

“Deal.”

“Steve no!” Peggy shouts but she goes ignored.

“Fantastic.” Pierce claps his hands together. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“When are you letting Bucky go?”

“When you hold your end of the deal. Now, get out of here, you’ve got a strike to diminish.”

Rumlow shoves Steve towards the door and Steve spits at him on his way out.

“Oh and please don’t go telling the little Stark boy about our arrangement.” Pierce tells him before he opens the door. “The boy has a nasty habit of sticking his nose into other peoples business, just like his father.”

Steve nods his head gruffly and slams the door behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
